What's in a Name?
by WillowDryad
Summary: Peter and Edmund are on the run, but how long can they stay hidden? Golden Age. No slash.


**Disclaimer: Edmund and Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me. Oreius probably belongs to Disney or Walden Media or something like that. He's not mine either.**

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

"Run," Peter hissed once they had crept, unnoticed, to the door at the end of the long corridor. "Run."

"They'll see us," Edmund hissed in return. "The minute we step outside, they'll see us and drag us back. Peter, I can't let them take me back in there. I can't."

Peter put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, Ed. It's all right. Don't think about it anymore. We're almost out. If we can just make it to the trees without being caught, we'll be okay."

Edmund clutched his arm, dark eyes enormous in his pale face, but he only gave a shaky nod and then scanned the sunlit garden just outside the door.

"Why couldn't it be night?"

Peter steadied him once more. "Shh. We've got to get moving now. We're sure to be spotted if we keep standing here in the doorway. A servant, one of the guards, anyone could–"

"All right. All right." Edmund pressed his trembling lips together and gave Peter a decisive nod. "Go."

It was maybe a hundred yards to the stand of oaks at the back of the garden, and the Kings were across the distance in a flash.

Edmund looked around frantically. "What now? We can't just–"

"Climb up. Hurry. They'll never look for us there."

Peter boosted Edmund onto a branch that was particularly well hidden by leaves and then hauled himself up after. For a time, they both sat panting, waiting for their hearts and breathing to slow to normal. Then Peter let out a heavy breath.

"All right, Ed?"

Edmund nodded. "Susan has got to stop inviting all these ravenous females to tea."

Peter frowned. "Or at least she has to stop inviting us to tea and not telling us who's on the guest list. I'm only sixteen. I'm not ready to get married yet. And when I do, I'll pick the girl myself, thank you. That Calormene lady is forty at least."

Edmund smirked. "You mean you don't want to be the delight of her eyes, O Most Golden One?"

Peter shoved him, almost knocking him off the branch.

Edmund grabbed the tree trunk, snorting softly. "Careful or someone will see us up here."

"Fine." Peter glared at him. "But don't be so smug. That Duchess from Terebinthia seemed pretty interested in you, her little brown-eyed Seal."

"Better than being called 'Rabbit,' Rabbit."

Peter shoved him again. "Lucy was just a baby when she called me that. It's not the same."

"She's not a baby now, and she still calls you that sometimes. Little Peter Rabbit going hippity-hop down the lane."

Edmund smirked again, and Peter considered shoving him a third time. Then, remembering, he grinned instead.

"Better than what she used to call you when you were little."

Edmund narrowed his eyes. "She never called me anything but Edmund or Ed."

"Not when you were little." Peter gave him a smug smile. "You're only a year older, so you probably don't remember."

"Two years," Edmund insisted.

Peter shrugged. "It's really not much more than a year, but it doesn't matter. The point is, you don't remember and I do."

"So? What was it?" Edmund scowled when Peter still gave him that smug smile. "What?"

Peter looked thoughtful. "Nooooo . . . maybe I'll just save it for the right moment. When your Terebinthian Duchess is mooning over you at supper. She'd love to hear it."

"Peter! What was it?"

Peter lifted one eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't remember?"

Edmund shook his head. "Come on. Tell me."

This time Peter smirked. "She used to call you Eddie."

"Eddie? That's it?" Edmund made an exasperated little huff. "Everybody knows that one. Even you call me Eddie sometimes, but that's just to annoy me. Lucy was just–"

"Eddie Bear."

Edmund froze and then his eyes widened.

"Yes," Peter said in the same syrupy voice Edmund had used when he mentioned Peter Rabbit and his hippity-hopping. "Cuddly little Eddie Bear. Your Terebinthian Duchess would just love to squeeze the stuffings out of you."

Edmund's eyes blazed. "You. Wouldn't. Dare."

"I think she'd love to have such a cu-u-ute nickname for you, Eddie Bear," Peter said, still grinning. "Much fluffier and cuter than Seal, don't you think?"

"Peter."

"And when she takes you back home to meet her family, before you get married and all that, she can introduce you as King Eddie Bear the Just."

"Peter."

"And, after you're married, you can–"

"Peter!"

Peter smiled guilelessly. "Yes, Eddie Bear?"

"Don't call me that."

Peter made his expression even more innocent than before. "Why not . . . Eddie Bear?"

"Because if you _ever_ mention that nickname to _any_one _ever_, especially to any predatory females, I will hunt you down and beat you to death with my bare fists."

Peter snorted. "In your dreams, little Eddie Bear."

Edmund glowered at him, and then he turned to the one weapon that never failed him.

"But, Peter, I–" His lower lip quivered. "I thought you promised Mum you would take care of us. And now . . . "

He blinked hard and his eyes filled with tears. Oh, not the eyes. Not the eyes! He and Lucy both knew Peter was helpless against the eyes. And, of course, Peter melted.

"I'm sorry, Ed. You know I was only teasing. I wouldn't tell any of those women something like that. Really."

Edmund sniffled a little and gave him an uncertain smile. "Really?"

"Of course not." Peter smiled back, reassuring, warm. "Sorry, Ed."

Edmund smirked, and Peter pressed his lips together, knowing he had once again fallen victim to his own soft heart.

He put a comforting hand on Edmund's shoulder. "I really am sorry, Ed."

"That's okay."

"–ie."

Edmund narrowed his eyes. "Peter."

"Bear."

"Aaaaaargh!"

Edmund tackled him, and helpless with laughter, Peter lost his balance. They crashed through the leaves and branches of the tree and fell into a tangled heap onto the grass right in front of a pair of hooves.

Both of them froze under the formidable gaze of the Centaur General. Edmund spit out a leaf.

Peter blinked. "Or– Oreius."

Oreius's solemn expression did not change. "I see we shall have to improve your skills at hiding and escaping, My Kings. If your place of concealment had not been obvious to begin with, the amount of racket you were making would have given you away at once."

Peter swallowed hard, wondering just how much the General had overheard, and then struggled into a sitting position. "We, uh, we . . . " He trailed off, smiling faintly. "Hello, Oreius. How are you?"

Oreius crossed his brawny arms over his chest, looking only mildly disgusted. "The Queen Susan has sent me to fetch you in to tea, High King." He reached down and pulled Peter to his feet. "You are late already."

"All right."

Peter brushed himself off, not daring to meet his brother's eyes.

"And you," Oreius said, hauling Edmund up, too.

Then he added something, very low, half-under his breath.

_Eddie Bear?_

No, he couldn't have. He wouldn't have. Oreius never would–

Peter saw the tiniest hint of a smirk on the Centaur's face. Edmund's mouth dropped open, and Peter realized he had heard the General, too.

"I'm going to kill you!" Edmund roared. "I'm going to kill you, Peter Rabbit!"

Peter took off running. Surely Edmund wouldn't actually carry out his threat.

Not over tea.

**Author's Note: Okay, obviously it's been a while since I've posted anything, so I thought I'd start with something fluffy and silly. Let me know what you think. Thanks to LadyAlambielKnightOfNarnia for brainstorming help.**

**Another Author's Note: Although I have noted this elsewhere, I failed to mention here that Lucy calling Peter "Rabbit" was OldFashionedGirl95's idea. Please pardon the omission.  
**


End file.
